The Third Wife
by Trig
Summary: The whole story of the Third Wife, with it's own little twists and turns to make the story interesting. This is gonna be fun!  ...from the book Eclipse.
1. Prologue

Prologue 

The lashes of hot white and orange blazed about and the smoke played pictures in the sky. The gray matter billowed on up and dissolved at a point in the darkness. The embers threw sparks around. It was dark and cold, but the Quileutes would not sleep. Someone was missing. No one slept until every single person was home. Every now and then, a slight breeze blew in from the West and all of the tribe shivered from the chill as one. All of the Quileutes were gathered around in a solemn circle, with a small fire at the heart. Alas, not even the fire could thaw their taut positions. No one moved one inch. No one spoke. All was quiet.

A high howl of triumph and pleasure rang distantly from afar. At once, a wolf emerged from the North side of the campfire. Its matted fur was a faded grey and the muzzle was distinctly streaked with silver. The monumental wolf, however large it appeared to be, was very frail and fragile. This confused the tribe for this particular wolf was young in age. The poor soul staggered into the center of the circle, close to the fire, and gave out a low, heart wrenching howl. It was then that the tribe began to notice the marks around its body. Many more around its neck. These marks, now streaming with a dark crimson blood, were crescent shaped. Many of the witnesses sank to the ground in anguish and sorrow, weeping for the beast. Most of them gasped in surprise and terror at the gruesome sight.

One woman in particular raced out to the wolf. She was of a dark brown complexion that was stained with flowing tears. Her long, black hair flew about as she dashed unsteadily to him. The poor woman collapsed at his feet and drew him into a tight hug. She spoke quickly and quietly to him, pleading for him not to die. The cold wind lashed at the faces of the tribe, adding to the sorrow. All of the Quileutes were aware that this poor being would die. All that appeared with these marks, as they had come to know, had perished. None of them knew where the horrid marks had come from. Some of them guessed that there was some unknown type of wolf in the woods that had left these marks. This was their only answer to this mystery. They didn't know what to believe.

Before any of the tribe could blink, the wolf had vanished. The space that had held him now held a bloody man. The man gave one final word of goodbye to the woman, and collapsed. He was dead.

The distant howls of wolves were getting closer and blended in with the weeping to form a sad, sad melody. The song lifted through the trees and drifted off in all directions. Birds flew in an opposite direction, trying in vain to rid their ears of the sound. Small animals and insects scrambled into nests, holes, and tree hollows. Larger animals, such as bears and moose, joined in the song, feeling the pain and sorrow. That night, everyone within earshot of the wolves heard the melody. And on this exact night, right around when the song started to echo around the hills, a baby was born.

The mother had just given birth to the infant and was alone when she heard the soft sound of the sadness, the wolves and weeping. This woman's husband had abandoned her along the road, fearing the woman and her child. The poor, lonely, and pained mother crawled along aimlessly in the forest, searching for a way back home. The woman, who was slowly slipping away, into death, gazed upon the baby. This baby was extraordinarily beautiful. Her hair, for a newborn, was already thick and luscious. It waved in locks of chocolate curls and framed her face.

The mother threw her head back and listened to the sad song, knowing that whatever was feeling this way, whoever, was in the same boat as she was. Terror, fear, sorrow. She gained comfort in the fact that she was not alone in this state.

When the song ceased, the poor woman wept uncontrollably. The baby, however, did not sound a word. Her cries also echoed far and wide across the hills and forest.

Meanwhile, at the Quileute tribe campfire, a strong and powerful leader heard the cries coming faint and distant from the East. He slipped away, unnoticed, from the group, not wanting to be followed. This leader's name was Taha Aki.

Now, Taha Aki had been the, as some would say, alpha wolf. He was old, but this wolf had been called the Great Wolf and Spirit Man for one reason. Taha Aki brought about the reign of the wolves. The Quileutes were once only the Spirit Warriors that could rip away from their bodies and fly everywhere, control most anything. The spirits, once detached from their body, were able to communicate with animals. And once, when Taha Aki was tricked away from his human form, left without his body, he entered, with permission, a strong, majestic wolf body. But, when Taha Aki had been angered, the anger and hate he felt was too massive for the wolfs body. No, this was a mans anger. It was too human for the animal. So, the wolf, which now held the man and animal, transformed into a man. From then on, he, and all of his descendants had the ability to change into a wolf and back again.

As the great Taha Aki became so close to the weeping woman, so close that he could hear her choky breaths, he broke into a run and soon came upon the woman. To him, she was foreign, something he had never seen before. She was so beautiful to his eyes. But what shocked Taha Aki even more was the baby in her arms. He looked down upon this baby and, at once, was shocked at the beauty before him. The baby's soft brown eyes were warm and inviting and Taha Aki did a double take. How could this baby have brown eyes? She was a newborn, and newborn babies only have blue eyes until they start to change hue. He gazed upon the beautiful foreigner and could not take his eyes off her until the woman shook him out of his reverie. Still, he was amazed at the child. How those brown eyes could be so…scorching. It was almost as if she saw right through him, like she knew everything about him; everything bad he had ever done. It was almost like…this mere, puny infant on the ground in front of him…could see his soul.

The woman raised the angel child up and cried out the same word over again in a high, shrill voice. The infant's eyes threw Taha Aki for another moment.

"Moriahie! Moriahie!" She screamed impatiently at him. And then he realized that this was the baby's name. What else could she be saying? '_Moriahie'_, Taha Aki thought. _Why does that sound familiar?'_ As he studied the woman more closely, he could see that she had no less than a couple minutes to live. She was bruised and bloody with scrapes all along the right side of her body. Almost as if she'd been dropped.

It seemed that the woman wanted to give him the baby. Taha Aki knew that he had a choice to make; Leave now empty-handed, and both the woman and child die, or, take the baby back to the tribe and hope that they accept her as their own. This would be a tough decision. But this baby was so irresistible and friendly.

Decided, Taha Aki accepted the baby. Once in his arms, he tilted Moriahie's head upward. Her warm eyes greeted his, somehow. Taha Aki knew that there was so much more to this infant that met the eye. He was so entranced by the baby, that he did not hear the shallow breaths of the mother fade and slowly come to a rest. The mother was no more.

Realizing this, Taha Aki threw one final glance of farewell toward the body and raced back off through the woods, towards home. The trees dashed by and bled into one another, a green rush. The ground didn't stir under his light-hearted feet. The baby in his arms giggled whenever a twig brushed up against Taha Aki's head. This caused him happiness, having something to look after. Someone to love. It felt like so long ago that he had had someone to love, to care for. His second wife had died in previous days, leaving him alone, once again.

Emerging into the clearing, he saw what had become of his tribe. The women, babies and girls were in one corner, still mourning over the young wolf's tragic and mysterious death. The men and boys were over in another, discussing the proper burial method. This scene was pitiful. It had been so very long since the Quileute tribe had been really, truly happy. All these unexplained deaths and the Makah tribe always trying to take over the territory. Day and night, the atmosphere in the village was the same; misery and pain and anguish. It had been so long.

Taha Aki let out a mighty sigh. He was unnoticed until now, but that did it. Every sad, tear-stained face jerked toward him and then down on Moriahie. Gasps of shock and horror filled the dark night air. And then, something very unexpected happened.

There was laughter. The bright, cheery laughter of women and children and even some of the men rang out, erasing all of the sadness. They circled around the baby, with hundreds of questions on their tongues.

Taha Aki was completely thrown off by this. They were…laughing. How did, all of a sudden, the dreary Quileute tribe suddenly turn into something totally different. This was happiness. There was happiness in the village once more. And they owe it all to the stranger, the foreigner, the infant named Moriahie.

But one in the tribe was not so gracious.

**A/N For those of you who are wondering, yes birds have ears. My co-writer, Lois, pointed that out. We actually went to Google and researched on if birds have ears. And they do! **

**Anyways, I hope to get a lot of good comments and constructive critism from all of you. No 'Goods' or 'Updates', pretty please?**

**DISCLAIMER: Most all of this plot line is from Eclipse, and all credit goes to Stephenie Meyers. **

**I am so exited to see how Moriahie grows up. I actually get to make her whole childhood from scratch, with no help from the very talented Mrs. Meyers. It's going to be so much fun!**

**Are you wondering why I named this baby Moriahie? Well, you'll just have to find out, won't you? It all comes together at the very end, you'll see.**

**Much Love,**

**Emily (Trig)**


	2. The Forest of Yahl

**Note to all who have skipped the Prologue…GO BACK! You will, most likely, not understand this chapter at all if you haven't read the prologue. **

**Thanks to **_PrettyPinkBookWorm_** and **_ljv_** for their fantastic reviews and because one of you dedicated a chapter to me…you guys rock. This chapter is dedicated to you, my only reviewers! Also, a special big hug to my co-writer and mother, Lois. I could not have done this without her advice. **

**DISCLAIMER: I own lots of things ranging from a desk and computer to a teddy bear. But, sadly, no Twilight… ( **

**Also, Moriahie's nickname is Morhie, just so you know. I have done some research, and there was a Quileute tribe near Forks, WA. Now, the aging system I have used is of my own design. If I say (for example) 'she was 3 moons old', just multiply the number by two…and whala! 6 moons! I know, it is kind of strange, since a 'moon' is usually a night. In this case, though, it counts for a year! Okay? Simple, easy.**

**Now, read. )**

**Oh, yeah. Caliginosity****means darkness. My co-writer didn't even know that one! **

Chapter One

_The cold wind whipped hard against my face as I ran, stumbling in the dense woods. It was nighttime and the surroundings were hardly visible. My feet were aching, for they were barefoot. The wind threw me off balance and it only took me a moment to regain it. But then it was too late._

_I felt an unnatural chill and a sense of cold, hard dread informed me that I was not alone. That was the reason I had been running; to get away. But away from what? A slow tingling rose up my back and the hair along my arms stood up on end, my stomach turned. Whatever, whoever, was following, was no friend to me. I heard my name, echoed through the woods, on the edge of my senses. Maybe I had imagined it, maybe not. Fearing that my pursuer was still out there, I pushed my limits faster. My legs became sore and they felt as if I might leave them behind and fly._

_The trees, towering above my head, dark and dim, rushed by at nauseating speed. The ground under me was a blur of dusty brown. I found that I could dodge trees and roots that were ejected from the ground faster then I thought was possible. Not even a twig brushed up against me and I passed them by. What a strange sensation, I thought. When it's so sudden, so new._

_Whatever had possessed me was no match for my own instinct when I reached a large clearing. I stopped, dead in my tracks, and a soft breeze blew the leaves about in my wake. It was pitch black in this clearing, but I could see that it was very wide. There was something familiar about this place, something that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I gazed around, my heart still thundering furiously. Then, my breath caught in my throat._

_There, at the edge of the clearing was a presence. Do not ask me how I knew, but I did. Blacker than the deepest black, etched into the figure of a woman. The caliginosity advanced toward me, and I scrambled backwards, stumbling over a root. My breathing was becoming fast and heavy, as though I might hyperventilate. As the obscurity leaned over me, my heart might have well ceased altogether. I was staring right into a pair of deep, crimson red eyes. _

_The monster loomed over me as if it were about to kiss me. And I was sadly mistaken, for I saw bright, gleaming teeth bared into a hideous snarl. I was taken aback. As it prepared to attack me, it froze. No more than a second later, something massive in size and dark in color leapt out of the dim forest. The dark thing boomed a mighty roar, sailed lightly, yet menacingly, across the clearing and landed on top of the phantom. My attacker let out an earsplitting screech. As did I._

I awoke with a start at this terrible dream, and I stared at the soft, brown inside of my woolly-dog blanket. What had possessed me to dream this way? Did the mighty ancestors of the elders myths lay this upon me? What had I done to anger them? No, no. I didn't believe the old myths. They were not real. And stranger still, this dream was not a first. I had been having these same sort of dreams for weeks; running through the trees at a fast speed with something after me, the hugely familiar clearing, the horrid phantom of dark, the crimson red eyes and bared glistening teeth, and my unknown savior. That was what held me onto the dream more than the average; that blur of brown fur. Who was it? Was it a wolf of my tribe, or something else?

A strange sound interrupted my pondering. Many sounds, too. All ranging from high-pitched to low frequency. Laughing, I concluded…and more than one source of laughter. Oh, no. I threw off my blanket and stared into the faces of three girls, about my age. It was funny; they seemed to be from my tribe. They had dark skin and black, shiny, strait hair and dark eyes, but I had never once laid eyes on them. I was puzzled, for they were in my house. Did Yakima, my mother let them in? Why would she, if I did not know them?

"Ooh! No, save me!" One of them, a taller, thinner, and ultimately more beatific one yelled. What was that supposed to mean? I looked at her, tilting my head, totally and utterly confused, bewildered. She laughed at my expression bitterly.

"Oh, you don't remember, little crybaby? We all heard you screaming so ran over to see the matter. Then, we found you whimpering in your sleep! It was so funny, you little kid!" I gasped in spite of myself. A mental imaged formed abruptly in my fogged head; me, lying in my bed, thrashing around and screaming. I shuddered at the vision.

A new thought dawned on me. These strangers were making fun of me. I felt the moisture building up in my eyes as I realized. I threw off my blanket ran from the room, grabbing a shawl as I flew. The girls laughed even harder, calling hateful names. One of the girls, however, stopped laughing. I could feel her gaze bore into my back and I ran.

"Dala N'a? What's wrong?" I heard one of the girls say between giggles. The tears were now flowing effortlessly down my face.

Yakima called after me, but I spared her no passing glance. She had betrayed me…she had let the hurtful girls in. I ignored her yells, or tried to. I dashed out into the chilly fall air. It tore at my skin, and made me break out into full hysteria. The hot tears streamed down my face and left lines on my face that burned in their wake.

I received several strange and concerned looks from the bystanders around. I paid them no notice. Not caring about the pain, I ripped myself through the thick, damp vines of the forest. The forest that was forbidden.

-_Taha Aki's POV_

I had just finished my morning breakfast with the tribe's elders when I heard the news. We had been discussing the Shaman woman's strange visions. Now, the Shaman woman was basically the medicine woman and the wisest in all of the Quileute tribe. The ancestors spoke to her through visions. Her visions had never proved false.

Lately, her visions had turned darker and darker. The Shaman had seen everything from victories to deaths but never had they been so horrid. She claimed to see a dark clearing, in which there was an evil presence that she could not distinguish. Some dark phantom, a creature she had never seen. And she saw that the village would suffer if an 'angel' (or so she had called it) did not sacrifice herself. Shaman saw it as the only way.

This made absolutely no sense to me. I knew no angel, nor did I know an evil presence, or a clearing. I was in the dark.

After the meeting with the elders, a small woman came up to me, a look of panic on her face. She was around the age of eight moons or so, a youth. She looked genuinely frightened. The girl was tall and thin, and very beautiful. But, I had not seen her before. It was strange; I was the leader of this tribe. Shouldn't I know every one of my people?

"Taha Aki!" She cried, grabbing onto my clothing with a tight, tensions grasp. "A girl, she is in trouble!" Her dark brown eyes gazed wide into mine before she spoke. "She went into the forest of Yahl!" My heart could have stopped on a dime. I had heard this all too many times before. The forest of Yahl had been forbidden. And if you knew why, you would agree with me.

At the start of the dark times, when unexplained murders began, that wretched forest had been completely forbidden. This forest was the only place that our tribe had ever died in…no one had ever come out of the forest, and lived long enough to tell the tale. Every single person who came out, wolf or no wolf, bore a crescent-shaped mark on their body. And worse than that, they smelled awful. It was too sweet, this smell, and it burnt our noses to inhale. Before they perished before us, they spoke of a raging fire in their veins. They screamed for us to see the fire, but there was nothing.

Some of the tribe thought that there were demons in Yahl. There were many rumors about these strange happenings, but this particular was the most spread. The rumor said that the demons entered a human by biting him and took over his senses. And eventually, this demon caused death. But of course, I was far too old and wise to believe such things. I had never encountered a demon and didn't plan to.

"Very well." I said, recalling the murders. "I shall follow, but warn the tribe!" I didn't want them to loose their only leader. I took one last sweeping look at my wonderful tribe, fearing, knowing, that I would most likely not return, and raced off into the woods, following this foolish girl into the forest of Yahl.


	3. A BloodRed Moon

**Ok, now this story is taking a big old twist. –Evil grin-**

**We are going back into the past…back to when Morhie first arrived in the village…and we are going to walk a mile in the Shaman's shoes!!! Fun, right? Now, if you don't remember, the Shaman is the medicine and creepy vision woman of the tribe. Just so you don't have to go back and look at the last chapter.**

**This chapter is dedicated to **_MidnightSun1993_** and **_PrettyPinkBookWorm_**, for their reviews…the only reviewers. Thanks, guys!**

**I'm sorry to say that I own everything. Stephenie Meyer stole Twilight from me!!! It's all a LIE!!! Now, if you'll excuse me, the men in the white coats are here to take me to my happy place. (For those of you who don't understand…I do NOT under any circumstances own Twilight or any of its incredibly awesome characters…It all belongs to the amazing Stephenie Meyer! SQUEE! I just love her so much!)**

Chapter Two

Yet another poor, innocent wolf had been killed mysteriously. I wondered how long this would go on for… until we were all dead? The pitiful woman wept at the dead mans feet as if there was still hope. I scoffed internally. For these unfortunate beings, there was no hope. All hope fled the moment they enter the forest of Yahl. I threw a glance at the forest to the north. I would have to discuss blocking off all entrance to the forest with the tribal elders.

To the north, also, beyond the forest of Yahl, was the Makah tribe. They had been our enemies for as long as anyone could remember. No one knew why they were, but they were. Almost like tradition. We were constantly blaming happenings on each other because; well, because we hated each other.

Suddenly, the whole scene in front of me started to sway. The trees looked detached from their trunks and the mournful faces of the people didn't look like faces at all. It was probably similar to looking at water; it was always going a different direction every time you looked at it. Any normal person would be shocked and frightened by this, but I wasn't. This had happened before. I was having a vision.

_ As the swaying motion slowed and the dazed objects which were now, indubitably, different, slowed and regain their shapes, I was beginning to discern the area before me. The fog slowly faded away from my vision and left my eyes on their own to see. The first vision I had ever encountered had left me completely blind for three days. It was nice to know that I was over that. _

_ There was nothing around me but empty black. Under my feet, there was nothing. Above my head, nothing still. The only thing there was anywhere appeared as a round, sphere shaped object. It was a dull white and its phosphorescence was astounding, like a siren song, drawing me in. The inside-warming object welcomed me with a soft mist that gently cradled my face, like a mother would caress her baby. And then I realized what was before me…a moon._

_ As soon as the epiphany entered my mind, something changed about the moon. The whole atmosphere around me grew violent, chilling, and sorrowful. The mist that had, just a moment ago, touched and warmed my senses, were now toying with my concentration. My mind wandered elsewhere, and for a moment, I had almost forgotten where I was. But then I remembered, I didn't know. The moon, once full and brightly glowing, started to melt. The droplets slowly trickled down the curved sides and fell below, into nothingness. But, as its shape began to dissolve, I noticed that the trill of melted moon turned red. Not just any color of red, though, this color was what anyone would describe as blood red. _

A small chill of fear came with the cold breeze of the night and jarred me out of my vision. I opened my eyes, and the campfire was back. As were the sad, contorted backs of the tribe people, and the dead boy on the ground, his mother still hunched over him. I soon realized that my posture was questionably odd. My old, wrinkled arms were spread out into the air on either side of me. My head was rolled back toward the dark blue sky, toward the stars…and toward the moon. I straightened up immediately, righting my back and resting my hands in my lap. Apparently, no one had taken any notice. They probably assumed, if they had taken any thought away from the fact that another had died, that I was praying to the gods. Hey, it was good enough for me. I was relieved. But, that feeling vanished as soon as I took a breath.

The smell of the fire was nothing compared to that horrible, all too sweet stench emanating from the poor, unfortunate corpse. As I inhaled, and it was quite a shallow breath, I'll admit, the back of my throat burned. However, it was not a hot burn, like boiling water or a scorching sun. No, this burn was entirely different. This was an ice cold feeling…It probably felt like someone was shoving snow into your throat and it wasn't melting like it should. The unwanted feeling kept coming back after every breath you take. I coughed.

Apart from my earlier oddity, this seemed to catch people's attention. Several tear-stained faces whipped around to glare at me; men and women, alike. I took hardly, if any at all, notice of this reaction. The bitter sweet smell was becoming much too much for my old woman's senses. But this was strange; I had never been like this before. In fact, just a couple of days ago, there had been a death and I didn't feel this. Something had changed, there was danger…and it had to do with the vision…Another painful breath cut through my thoughts, boggling my concentration.

My ears began to hear a low frequency ringing sound and its volume doubled up on me with every breath. My head was throbbing and enhanced the sound of my faint heartbeat. My poor old limbs were trembling and twitching. This was too much for me. I had to leave.

I used my skinny arms to hoist myself up off the log that I had been sitting on, and almost fell sideways. Apparently, the smell was making me woozy, as well. Amazingly, yet after a few tries, I finally got on my own two feet. I stumbled over, through the groups of sad people, who barely paid me a passing glance, and into the South Woods, far away from the forest of Yahl. Deeper and deeper I went into the depths of the forest, until the only light I could see came from a gap in the trees, revealing the moon. It seemed to be mocking me in my current state.

I sat down on the damp earth and took a deep, long breath of the forest air. It was moist and cold, but it was welcome. After this, a desert would be welcome. I stared down at my dry, wrinkling hands. Once, believe it if you will, I was the most beautiful, smartest, and most skillful woman in the tribe. The men would watch me. But I was training to be next in line as Shaman. The Shamans were not allowed to be wed, or to have children, for our people believed that it would strip us of our rights. But I had always wanted, I had always dreamed. All of my attention was to be focused on medicine recipes and healing and meditation, but never for love or passion or music.

My mother was the Shaman of the old times, and her mother before her. I wasn't sure how far back the Shaman linage went, but I could sense that it was extensive.

A sound shook me out of my reverie, a sound of whooshing leaves and a steady, but quick and faint foot falling. Someone was coming. Quickly, I stood up and shook my thin dress of the mud. I wiped the tears from my eyes and looked around. The sound seemed to be coming from deep in the forest. What if it was one of the Makah? I would surely be dead, if so. The sound was getting closer, and closer, until…

Taha Aki?

**I am SO sorry that this chapter took a couple of weeks, writers block, exams, homework, the whole bit. Bear with me, okay? Once again, please write REVIEWS, not little 'write mores' and 'update soon's' and 'cool stories', okay? I appreciate it.**


	4. The Clearing

**I am one million times sorry for this chapter being late…it's because I'm lazy, and the semester is at its end. Ah! Finals!!!**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you guys are my motivation. Plus, I felt motivated. ******** Thanks.**

**I do not, under any circumstances, own Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, or any of the characters. They all belong to the wonderful, the talented, Stephenie Meyer. **

Chapter Two

_Moriahie's point of view_

The dampness of the vines left moisture on my hands as I clawed at the looming wall that led back to my village. Why had I come this way? I knew that the forest of Yahl was forbidden, and how they set up this horrible wall, decorated, so to speak, will vines and brush. I was weeping, and the tears flowed freely down my stricken face. What had I gotten myself into this time? Just as this thought passed through my mind, my hand hit something hard, and a sharp stab of pain shot up my arm, causing me to gasp, not only because pain.

Blood.

Grimacing, I looked at where my hand had been hurt. It was a solid, gray and brown surface, coated with dirt and mud…and bugs. I squealed and, well, to put it frankly, nearly soiled myself. Insects. They disgust me. But that wasn't the only thing that I saw that frightened me, nearly to the point of humiliating myself; there was something else. It was a figure of a woman, the outline only. I could tell because of the feminine curves. I reached out my hand to brush over it and feel it. It was hard and rough, indented where the lines were. This was no drawing, it was carved. Gasping, I studied the specimen closer still, to see if there was something that I overlooked. The hair seemed to have a monstrous look, in the air above her head. And right where her eyes should be, were dark red dots that looked as if they had been smeared on…not painted. I recoiled at what I realized it was.

_Unknown point of view_

The dark veil of the forest trees permitted me to leap to the branches in search of prey. My sharp vision cut through the mist like a blade, my eyes scanning the area surrounding the tree in which I crouched. Although I loved tasting Quileute blood, when I could not have it, I made do with forest animals. The high wall kept me from their tribe. I could not enter, even though I could easily smash through it. The animal/humans would attack me. And, though I could kill _them_ easily, I saw no need to do that.

A faint scent caught my attention. It was animal blood, perhaps a large rodent or baby deer. I licked my lips. Good enough.

Bounding through the trees, at a speed in which everything was a blur around me, I could see everything I passed, and one mile ahead. There was the baby deer, wandering the forest floor, probably in search of food. But so was I.

I moved so soundlessly, it didn't realize that I was coming. It was oblivious to anything but its own footsteps and the food it would never again consume. Coming closer than ever, maybe only twenty yards or so, I slowed myself to a silent halt, and crouched low to the dirt covered ground. There was no sound, except for the soft _thump, thump, and thump_ of the hooves against the ground. Not even my breath could be heard. It was almost completely silent. I waited patiently until the time was correct, for I knew. I could hear the animal's heart in its chest…and I knew it was time to dine.

Suddenly, and without warning, I pushed off the ground with such force, the trees shook. Flying through the damp air was exhilarating. The deer, knowing that his fate rested solely on my actions, held perfectly still, staring with shocked eyes as I descended. I was about to land and sink my teeth into his little neck, a wonderful, glorious smell wafted through the air, confounding my concentration. I landed on my feet, still crouched low, as the baby deer scampered away from me. This smell of blood was not a animal, oh no. It was human. And I couldn't wait to feed.

_Moriahie's point of view_

I knew instantly, upon seeing the eyes dotted with blood that I should get back to the village. But I also knew that I couldn't. I could never climb that wall or find a safe passage through it. How did I get in? How does anyone get in? That was a question that I would have to present to my mother, well adopted mother. She knew everything.

I decided, since I was stuck in this predicament anyway, that I should explore the surrounding area; see what's out there. I decided to run.

Running through the forest, the air so cool and calming, felt like a dream…or a haze. I wasn't really aware of which way I was going, and I tripped over logs and fallen branches often. I saw the bright morning sunlight come down in rays straight in front of me, and I wanted it. I wanted the light. I was tired of the dark. It reminded me of my dreams; my demented, frightening dreams; of a blacker than black figure in a pitch black area trying to kill me. I shuddered, even as I ran. Nightmares.

I stopped as soon as I approached a saddening weeping willow tree. I vaguely remembered a story that I had once heard about the weeping willow, told by a stranger when I was a mere infant. It told of a willow and a child, whose fates were intertwined. The child abused the poor tree, grabbing onto its long strands and pulling, ripping off the bark, causing the willow pain beyond imagination. One day, a day when the tree was old and dying of its hurts. It saw the boy, who was now a young man. A boy was in trouble. A wolf, one of the scariest, yet most familiar creatures, lurked behind a stump, and the boy was playing with the grass.

The tree knew that the wolf would kill the boy, and knew that it, itself, had not long to live. So, to save the boy, to whom he owed nothing, the tree gently let go and fell upon the wolf, killing it. The boy never knew how much the old tree loved him, despite his flaws. The truth was that the willow considered the boy its best friend, its only companion.

A small breeze blew the strands about and my curiosity sparked once more. Carefully, so as not to hurt the tree, like the uncaring boy in the story, I parted the strands and entered. When the sun hit my eyes, it burned, but I was relieved. I was in a meadow, an opening in the forest. It was a wide clearing, with trees on all sides. But that's not what caught my attention most. Nor did the bright green grass or the wonderful blue morning sky. It was the female figure on the edge of the clearing that drew my eyes.

Startled, I backed toward the willow, but by then, the female had already stepped out.

She sparkled.


End file.
